


Brooklyn-99 AU

by gudetama (elementary)



Series: Prompt stuff [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Brooklyn-99, Crack, Gen, Inspired by Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV), Kidnapping, M/M, Married Couple, Police, maybe people have daddy issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 07:22:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15944534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementary/pseuds/gudetama
Summary: Started off as musing about how the characters would fit into a B99 AU setting and it just took off from there





	1. the one with the middle name

**Author's Note:**

> For those who have seen both drabbles already, there is now a third!

Without giving much away except an air of profound irritation, Percival watches the situation unfold before his eyes as Newt steadily tightens his grip on Percival’s hand. Unfortunately, there is no one to blame but his husband who  _insisted_  on inviting the squad to the party when all Percival wanted was a nice, quiet evening with just a few of their mutual friends.

And so, here they are at a stand still in his own living room while Chopin plays from the speakers, no one so much as breathing as they look between him and Goldstein (except Theseus who’s snickering as he films the whole thing, the bastard).

“Barebone—” he addresses the boy next to her who looks like he’s about to faint.

“Sir, this is a matter between us,” Goldstein interrupts, appearing rather inebriated judging by her pink face.

“You’re the one who made an accomplice of him first,” Percival points out.

“Percy, just do as she says, don’t aggravate her,” Newt hisses.

Percival shoots him an incredulous look because who’s the actual police officer here? But Newt hasn’t taken his eyes off of their dog caught in Barebone’s arms even once. He’s paler than usual and chewing on his lower lip and there’s something accusatory in the eyes that turn to him briefly as if everything happening right now is Percival’s fault.

“Why are you doing this, Goldstein,” Percival demands in an authoritative voice, hoping it’ll break through her current insanity.

It works somewhat, making her flinch and her face falls into that kicked puppy expression whenever she thinks he’s unhappy with her. Which he is, and she would know this yesterday but the alcohol in her bloodstream has stronger influence at the moment.

“I just want to know, sir,” she practically whines before sneezing.

Alright, so the redness and watering eyes is partly due to allergies and not just alcohol and emotional outrage. All this over his goddamn  _middle name_? From violating his privacy by searching his rooms—who knows what could’ve happened if he hadn’t caught them, she was photographing the bathroom’s layout, for fuck’s sake—to kidnapping his dog in his own house for an unconventional ransom, Goldstein crossed quite a few lines. Her acts of desperation have driven him to the point that he wants to keep his lips sealed just on principle even knowing that it’s childish of him.

“I want to know everything about you,” Goldstein continues. “I want to be friends and friends know things about each other. Including middle names! Mine’s ‘Esther’, by the way!”

The sniffles every few words makes her sound especially pitiful and then she’s taking Niffler from Barebone in slow-motion like a final move in a showdown.

Someone else sniffles.

“That’s so sweet,” Newt sighs. “Percy, she just wants to be your friend. You can always do with more friends.”

 _No, he doesn’t_. Percival snatches the now-empty glass of champagne Newt somehow procured and consumed without supervision—damn it, he was watching him carefully all this time, too—and mutters that, “That’s enough, sweetheart.” Well, at least he’s less anxious, now.

He turns back to the mess of a situation, and oh god, she looks like she’s having trouble breathing.

“Goldstein, put the dog down before you get yourself killed. Theseus, I’m going to break your phone if you don’t stop filming—”

“Over my cold, dead body, Graves.”

“Barebone,  _do something_ —”

“Not until we come to an agreement, sir,” Barebone says in a shaky voice, a kind of fire suddenly burning in his eyes.

Of all times for him to grow a backbone—Percival wants to shoot something.

“Goldstein—Tina,” he tries again and it immediately has her perking up. “Yes, Tina. The thing is, I can’t tell you.”

Goldstein sobs and sneezes simultaneously.

“There are too many people here,” he continues in a reasonable tone. “I don’t wish to reveal such personal information about myself that only friends would know where anyone can hear. Perhaps we can arrange some other time, just the two of us.”

It’s all he can do not to bite his own tongue off after saying those words but they seem to have an effect; Goldstein stares for a few more seconds before nodding slowly, and at his urging she puts Niffler down at last. And sneezes several more times. Then collapses into Barebone’s side. There’s a collective sigh of relief throughout the room as if there was actual serious tension in the first place and Percival feels a headache coming on.

“Oh, Teenie,” the younger Miss Goldstein sighs as she walks past him towards her sister.

“That was so brave of you, Percy,” Newt sniffs into his shoulder. “You saved Niffler and made a new friend.”

That’s. It.

“Thank you all for coming to celebrate  _my birthday_ ,” Percival announces loudly, “which you all seem to have conveniently forgotten in favour of this—”

“Hostage situation.”

“—hostage situation—shut up, Theseus—but the night is now over so please see yourselves out as soon as possible.”  _Because I’m too old for this and can’t deal with this any longer_. “Thanks again and enjoy the rest of your weekends.”

Goldstein seems to have sobered some by the time she leaves because he hears her crying about getting fired to her sister on her way out. He wouldn’t; it was a relatively harmless misadventure and nothing to ruin a promising young detective’s career over. After he closes the door behind the last guest, he sees Theseus who was hiding behind it and Percival opens it again.

“That includes you, dear brother-in-law,” Percival grits through his teeth.

“But I’m drunk.”

“Nice try.”

“That’s cold, Captain. You’d send me out onto the streets at this time of night where I’m at risk of being mugged—ow ow ow, alright, fine! Take care of Newt, alright?” Theseus shouts as he’s literally kicked out.

Percival closes the door behind the real final guest. “Don’t I always.”

He returns to the living room and finds Newt passed out and sprawled on one of the couches, hugging Niffler tight to him. The other animals that had been avoiding the guests have come out from their hiding places and surrounded him. At last, Percival can relax as he walks towards his husband, sitting on the other end and pulling Newt’s legs onto his lap. He leans his head back and silently screams into the abyss within his mind reserved especially for times he can’t process in a rational manner.

Dougal turns away from Newt to hop onto the back of the couch next to him and nudges his cheek with a furry paw. It draws a reluctant smile.

“Yes, I’m still alive,” Percival mutters.

Newt mumbles something in his sleep and giggles.

 

 

On Monday, Goldstein can’t meet his eyes for a good part of the day. The others make subtle and not-so-subtle references to that night and provokes her into little squabbles and Percival feels—not for the first time since being assigned to this department—like a kindergarten teacher. At the end of the day, he takes pity and calls her into his office to settle matters once and for all.

“Goldstein, my friend, please have a seat.”

“Oh my god, Captain, please,” Goldstein groans as she does and hangs her head.

Let it be known that Percival is not above personal pettiness—oh god he’s becoming one of them; he clears his throat, sits forward on his chair, hands folding together and elbows on the desk.

“I’ll let you know that thing you really want to know on one condition.”

Goldstein freezes, then peeks up through her hair before sweeping it back from her face. “What is it?”

“No Christmas gifts.”

A gasp, jaw dropping open.

“ _No!_ ”


	2. father issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the squad might have daddy issues and the captain sets it straight

Taking a deep breath, Tina knocks on the door.

“Come in.”

“You wanted to see me, sir?” she asks as she enters the office.

“Yes,” Captain Graves says, taking off his glasses and leaning back in his armchair. He looks every bit the imposing, competent man she respects and admires. “I have come to a decision.”

“Oh, good—wait, what?” Tina exclaims as the words hit her. “Sir, it’s only been two minutes—”

“And twelve seconds, I am well aware,” he sighs and does the hand-folding thing that adds Extra Serious Weight to his words. “In fact, I apologize for the delay and keeping you in suspense; your request rather caught me off guard.”

 

> _“How can I help you, Goldstein?”_
> 
> _“You see, um,” the detective fidgets, eyes shifting. “Perhaps, perhaps… Perhaps.”_
> 
> _Percival gestures for her to go on, arching a brow._
> 
> _“Permission to consider you my dad, sir!” she blurts out._
> 
> _Taken aback, Percival’s left pinky tip twitches. “What—”_
> 
> _“Well, my workplace dad, yes. I mean, you’re only the greatest man I look up to other than my real father—”_
> 
> _“Goldstein—”_
> 
> _“—and. And it’s important to my work morale to have a sense of connection to and approval from a higher authority which, essentially is… anyway! I’ll give you some time to think about it.” Goldstein steps back slowly. “I know it’s. It’s weird and maybe unprofessional just a tiny bit—”_
> 
> _“A lot, actually—”_
> 
> _“—but it’s hardly much to ask for so please take all the time you need but two weeks maximum. Okay, bye!”_
> 
> _In an impressive feat, Goldstein opens the door without looking and steps backwards out the door and closes it in one smooth motion._
> 
> _Percival stares at the door. “What in the world…”_

 

“I understand, which is why I—”

“Denied.”

Oh. Alright, no big deal, it was only a privilege that would have meant the world to her anyway. It changes nothing.

“Are you… crying, Goldstein?”

Tina wipes her nose. “ _No._ ”

“Our relationship is perfectly fine the way it is,” Captain Graves explains after handing her a tissue. “You are an exemplary detective of mine who has some control issues but—”

There’s a knock on the door and she and Captain Graves share a look and, upon her nod, he calls the person in.

“Father,” Credence calls, walking in, “here’s the latest update on the Linetti case.”

“On my desk, thank you,” Captain Graves says.

Something about the exchange puzzles Tina, but she can’t quite put a finger on it. She returns Credence’s smile as he leaves.

“As I was saying—”

Another round of knocking interrupts them, and this time it’s Leta peeking her head inside.

“Yo, old man, we’ll be heading out soon,” she informs him.

“Five minutes,” Captain Graves answers, and then she’s gone.

Wait a minute.

“Sir,” then Tina pauses as her mind wraps around what she just heard. “Did she just say—”

“Yes.”

“And Credence—”

“Mmhm.”

“How come—” Tina’s spluttering now.

Captain Graves shakes his head. “What they say is of no importance; I trust you to respect my wishes for maintaining professionalism in this place.” He stands and walks around his desk, opens the door. “The others are displaying insubordination and ridiculing their direct superior  _which I do not appreciate_.”

The last part is said in a deliberately raised voice towards the bullpen for all to hear and the room goes silent.

Somehow, despite the word ‘trust’ being used in reference to her, it doesn’t feel like a victory to Tina.

 

 

“Of course we aren’t ‘ridiculing’—” Leta sneers the word, glaring at Tina from across her desk. “—him. Most everyone here considers him a father figure, what with his charismatic leadership, protectiveness over this precinct, the biggest of soft spots for us—”

“Is that emotion I’m hearing in your voice, Leta?”

“Shut up and be on your way before I cut off your tongue, Scamander,” Leta responds like she’s telling him the weather and not threatening bodily harm.

Theseus shrugs and does just that.

“But he doesn’t like it,” Tina protests.

“He didn’t say that.”

 

> _“I’m proud of you, Lestrange.”_
> 
> _“Thanks, old man.”_
> 
> _Captain Graves does that thing with his brow where one can’t tell if he’s impressed or appalled. “_ Excuse  _me?”_

 

“That was clearly disapproval!”

Leta scoffs. “You’re just jealous.”

“Yes, I am, but that’s beside the point. And since when did you start calling him ‘father’, Credence?”

Credence stops as he’s passing by them. “Do you mean in my head or out loud?”

“… Never mind.”

“It’s because you’re a goody two-shoes, Tina; sometimes kids have to rebel against their parents,” Leta says, standing up.

“ _Or_ —” Tina also stands, “I’m his favourite because I’m following exactly in his footsteps including maintaining professionalism and he secretly thinks of me as the best daughter he’s never had and Captain Graves is right behind me isn’t he…” she trails off miserably, suddenly noticing Leta and Credence’s frozen stance.

“Great detective’s intuition, Goldstein,” Captain Graves’ voice sounds from behind. “As for ‘following in my footsteps’, you were doing excellently so far, I would hate to see you ruin it.”

“Yes, sir,” Tina mutters without turning around.

She hears him walk away before levelling a look at her colleagues.

“You’re so weird, Tina,” Leta says.

“Shut up.”

 

 

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Tina says as she enters the office, getting a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Have a seat, please,” Captain Graves gestures to the guest chair. “It has come to my attention—several times—that I have lost control of these ‘daddy issues’ within the precinct.”

There’s a moment in which Tina is at a loss for words. “Uhhhhhhh… sir, I’m not certain that’s the exact problem.”

“Am I not making myself clear?” and oh, there’s the Brow.

“It’s just. The meaning is, not quite…” she pauses, eyes taking in a stern, handsome face with a perpetual frown, the clean, dark suit fitted across broad shoulders and body language oozing of confidence.

There’s a moment in which Tina’s brain cells scream all at once,  _Does our whole squad have actual daddy issues and are finding stability and emotional gratification through our superior?_

“It’s best not to express the problem as such, sir,” she sighs, tired all of a sudden.

Captain Graves gives her a considering (ninety-nine per cent certain) look. “It does seem too casual,” he concedes. “So, about these ‘father issues’, then—”

Oh god, Tina thinks.

“—if it were not for your request, I would not have considered it to be anything beyond a tasteless prank of sorts; but in light of your involvement, it must be something more meaningful than that.” Captain Graves steeples his fingers beneath his chin and looks super cool doing it. “I do not consider you my children whatsoever—” He stops and glances away to mumble something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like, “God knows I already have one for a husband,” then continues, “—but there is a certain level of… emotional attachment that stirs within me a desire to see you safe and happy and doing your jobs properly.”

Tina feels her heart clench and her nose sting, thanks her captain when he silently passes her a tissue. Definitely déjà vu.

“If anything, I consider the squad my important colleagues and sometimes-almost-friends which is more than an obligated sense of duty as your captain. That being said, I would most definitely appreciate it you would  _all stop this nonsense from now on_.”

Captain Graves raises his voice at the end and appears to glower behind her, and before Tina can even begin to form a question, the door bursts open revealing the whole squad in varied emotional states.

“Yes, sir!” they shout in unison except one voice that says, ‘daddy’, and then there are varying reactions of disgust.

Tina laughs and meets Captain Graves’ eyes and oh, that’s definitely a Brow of Amusement with perhaps a touch of Exasperated Fondness.

 

 

“Honestly, Newt,” Percival sighs after dinner that night. “I was confused as to how she came up with the idea in the first place. She is usually such a good girl.”

“Oh, that was me,” Newt says.

“What?” Percival does not gape.

“Remember that time Tina came over to our house?”

 

> _“I don’t want this to be weird between us, Newt, considering I used to have a major crush on you and we’re the same age, but I want Captain Graves to be my father,” Tina rushes out in a single breath._
> 
> _“That makes perfect sense, Tina,” Newt nods and takes her hand. “Thank you for telling me; you have my blessing.”_
> 
> _“Goldstein, what are you doing here?” and Newt sees Tina tense up at Percy’s entrance._
> 
> _“We’re just reacquainting ourselves, Percy,” he says, “Starting anew as not-father and not-daughter.”_
> 
> _“What?”_
> 
> _“What?”_

 

Percival puts his head in his hands and screams in silence.


	3. who took the cheese?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which someone dares to kidnap Captain Graves' child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title because the dog in the actual show is named Cheddar hahaha

The moment Captain Graves steps off the elevators and into the bullpen, fury radiating so strongly off of him that not even Jacob dares approach with his usual greeting, everyone stops breathing. His presence is so captivating that they almost don’t notice Detective Scamander getting off behind him, expression also... _grave_  as he follows the man into his office.

It all happens in less than a minute but the breaths released after the door closes are explosive like they’ve been drowning.

“Oh my god, is the captain finally committing to murder his brother-in-law?” O'Brien says ominously.

“What, _no_ , don’t be ridiculous!” Tina scoffs.

But for a few seconds everyone’s eyes are on the door, ears straining for any noises remotely indicative of a crime in progress.

Nothing.

“Like I said,” Tina says, as if she hadn’t doubted her captain for those few seconds.

Everyone jumps when the door opens and scrambles to appear as if they were working hard to begin with. Scamander doesn’t scold anyone as he returns to his desk but the dark frown and following sigh is telling. No one dares approach him.

The thing is, Scamander has more qualifications than at least half the entire police force in America but remains a detective out of his own volition—out-stubborns all his superiors’ insistence on promotion (even Captain Graves) while also having the skill and experience to not be knocked down for impudence. Said at one point that he would go rogue of they chain him to a desk job.

Well, he probably wanted to say something else, but...

 

> _“Graves! Captain, I mean!” Scamander’s shouts as he crosses the bullpen from the elevator in long, purposeful strides; officers leap out of the way. “If you go through with that recommendation and I pass the test—because you know I will, I’m too smart for everyone’s good and can’t resist showing off—I swear I’m going to—”_
> 
> _Detective Scamander skids to a halt as an unexpected face pops out of Captain Graves’ office._
> 
> _“What, Thes?” Newt Scamander steps out, blinks innocently with a smile that fools only the fools. “What are you going to do, exactly, dear brother?”_
> 
> _It’s times like these that some believe they’re true brothers, the detective and the captain’s husband; they could probably smile through a cold-blooded murder and hiding of the dismembered body parts._
> 
> _“I—I,” Detective Scamander seems at a rare loss for words. “I’m. Going to go rogue! Bloody rogue, I tell you! Damn it.”_
> 
> _The last is muttered under his breath followed by a few more curses about Graves being a cowardly bitch hiding behind the one person he can’t do anything about._
> 
> _“I do not know what you mean, Detective,” comes a voice from behind him; several jump because somehow their captain just appeared out of thin air like the known master of stealth he is, always there to catch you speaking badly of him. “Newt is only here to bring my lunch which I inconveniently forgot.”_
> 
> _Detective Scamander spins around. “You mean 'conveniently'; you never forget your lunch, don’t lie you son of a—”_
> 
> _“Even monkeys have their off days,” Captain Graves cuts in smoothly. “Now, please come to my office and we can further discuss this recommendation you seem to despise in a civil manner.”_
> 
> _“No ‘Newt’s allowed.”_
> 
> _“And you cannot do anything other than 'go rogue' as you so vehemently swore earlier.”_
> 
> _They both look at Newt who stands in the doorway, still smiling. He waves. They turn back to one another._
> 
> _“Fine.”_
> 
> _“Fine.”_

 

 The point is, he’s of the same rank as the squad but not, more Captain Graves’ level but not because he still has to listen to him as his superior, and both are second in their own ways to Commissioner Picquery, amazingly the first woman and openly not-straight Commissioner of the NYPD; therefore, they’d rather not get their asses whooped for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Or the right thing at the wrong time. Or—

“Jacob!”

“What did I do?” Detective Kowalski doesn’t stutter.

“You have any baked goods with you? I missed my breakfast this morning,” Detective Scamander grins wide and bright. “And I’m feeling... hangry.”

Despite the smile and awkward usage of the word 'hangry', most got the impression of a shark sniffing for blood instead. Still, nothing terrible happens when Jacob pulls out a fresh batch of muffins and everyone cheers, bless his soul.

“Thank you, Jacob,” Detective Scamander says. “Alright, let’s eat and work hard today, people!”

“Yes, sir!” they yell back, and ignore the strange look Scamander gives them with a muffin halfway into his mouth.

It just burst forth without thought, really.

The day isn’t easy, however. The tension in Detective Scamander’s shoulders never quite goes away, and he takes frequent bathroom breaks plus a long lunch—all while taking down a drug-dealing gang they’ve been after for _weeks_ —which makes them suspect that whatever put him in a mood this morning didn’t get resolved. On top of that, Captain Graves’ is especially growly when speaking to them, making them feel chastised even though they haven’t done (much) wrong.

Between the two of them, it’s one nerve-wracking day for the precinct.

Something changes once Captain Graves leaves for the day with a somber apology.

“Squad. Meeting room.”

At Scamander’s call, they shuffle into the meeting room and seat themselves. Queenie closes the door behind her.

“This stays in this room, understood?” Scamander waits until everyone nods their agreements. “Alright, so, last night, Pickett disappeared and we’re looking at a kidnapper. Or dognapper, I suppose.”

“ _What?_ ” Tina exclaims.

“Who’s Pickett?” Abernathy whispers not very softly.

“The Captain’s firstborn, you fool,” Leta snaps.

“His _dog_ , Abernathy,” Scamander sighs, “but yes, also his firstborn. Newt’s firstborn to be exact, Graves’ first-adopted. I told that brat not to overdo it with the ridiculous Instagram thing—”

“Detective,” Queenie prompts gently.

“Anyway, Pickett was left out in the front yard for a bit of fresh air and you know how the kid has attachment issues so it's impossible that he would’ve left on his own.

“He disappeared without a trace when Newt went to bring him back in five minutes later, and calling him had no response.” Scamander crosses his arms. “There are too many suspects at the moment because they now have over twenty-five hundred followers.”

“Followers, like a cult?” O’Brien gapes. “I mean, of course, I’d join myself if Captain Graves was the leader—”

“ _Instagram followers_ , you fossil,” Abernathy hisses.

“Still a cult, in my opinion,” Leta remarks.

“How would they have known where they live?” Tina asks.

“If they were determined enough, they could have pieced together a general area from the backgrounds in those pictures. Captain isn’t exactly low profile and Newt is all over the place all the time, so.”

“Who’s crazy and obsessed enough to do that?” Jacob scoffs as he accesses Newt’s Instagram account for updates.

“We can look at average ratio of followers to number of likes and from those which users have liked every single post, but then again it might be easier to gather a list of possible enemies who are within the vicinity,” Queenie suggests.

“I did think of that as well, except Graves has possibly just as many of those with his history. They’d have better access, though,” Scamander muses.

“Then it’s between a fanatic stalker and disgruntled convict?” Leta asks with a skeptical brow. “We could be here all week.”

“As if you wouldn’t stab the perpetrator with a smile on your face when we find them, Leta,” Scamander drawls.

“Damn right.”

“Alright, then Tina and Abernathy can go down to the geek squad to comb through the account; O’Brien, you’re Graves’ fan yourself so put together a list of the ones he put away in order of strongest motive—”

“Thes!” Newt Scamander suddenly barges into the room with a shout.

The man holds out a fist and slowly opens it; there in his palm lies a silver pendant on a black string in the shape of a triangle containing a circle, a single line running from top to bottom dividing them in half.

“It was hidden under the blanket in Niffler’s bed,” Captain Graves explains as he steps in next to his husband.

“He must've found it when Pickett first got taken,” Newt adds, then mumbles 'sneaky little bugger' under his breath. “Because I haven’t let any of the others out of my sight since.”

Scamander looks from the necklace to his brother and his brother-in-law, then to the squad with mixed expressions.

“Or, my brother could find incriminating, decisive evidence and render all this effort useless. Let’s go, team!”

 

 

Five of them—Captain Graves, his husband, his brother-in-law, Detectives Goldstein and Kowalski—head over to a quaint little house in a neighbourhood an hour away.

( _“This is not a road trip for fuck's sake, Theseus, turn off that racket—”_ )

All kinds of flowers line the small walkway leading from the sidewalk to the door as if to distract from the possible danger that lies within. They climb onto a porch with barely enough room to fit them all, and with a nod, Captain Graves rings the doorbell.

A few seconds later, the door opens. The man within is roughly in his fifties, luscious locks of greying auburn long enough to be braided over the shoulder and an equally full beard hanging down to his chest. He wears a light, knitted cardigan down to his thighs over thin pyjamas, and watches them with wide eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses.

“Good evening, Captain,” he greets with a puzzled smile, the tone a soft lilt that makes him sound trustworthy. “Newt, Theseus.”

“Hello, professor,” Newt returns as his brother waves.

The detectives who had been left out of the greeting give each other confused looks, wondering about the familiarity between the four of them.

“No need to act surprised, Mr. Dumbledore,” Captain Graves says, but contrary to a calm voice, his eyes scream murder. “I’m sure you already know why we’re here.”

“Is this official business?”

“It could become official, sir,” Scamander answers instead. “Would be best to let us in.”

“This is police brutality,” Dumbledore frowns, which becomes a smile again when the captain narrows his eyes. “No need to be so uptight, Percival. Please, come in.”

Scamander mutters something like ‘when is he not’ and earns himself a smack from Newt. They all follow Dumbledore into a living room that’s decorated with unique charms and artwork, and are told to make themselves comfortable.

“Just call him,” Captain Graves says impatiently, being the only one who doesn’t listen while everyone else sits down on comfortable sofas.

“He’ll be down soon,” Dumbledore responds with patience. “Now, what do you suspect he did that has you so upset?”

“We believe he took one of our dogs, sir,” Newt replies, stepping forward and presenting the necklace. “This was in our yard where he was last seen.”

After hearing the answer, Dumbledore’s calmness gives way for a moment to something complicated as he picks up the pendant, then it settles on apologetic. “If that’s truly the case, I’m terribly sorry.”

“This shouldn’t have even happened, not with you here,” Captain Graves says.

“I cannot control what Gellert does, Captain; he is his own person,” Dumbledore sighs.

“Yes, you can.”

The other raises a brow. “You think too highly of me.”

Captain Graves’ glare intensifies, and then Tina accidentally breaks the tension by sneezing.

“Bless you,” Dumbledore and the captain say without looking her way.

“Thank you,” Tina mumbles, face heating likely in embarrassment.

Jacob pats her shoulder sympathetically.

The sound of a throat clearing interrupts them and Gellert Grindelwald (an older man quite literally devoid of colours, Tina thinks) enters the room with a blanket-wrapped bundle in his arms, face indifferent. Calling for Pickett, Newt almost leaps towards him and snatches the bundle, uncovers it to see his darling firstborn blinking awake. Pickett squirms and whines and tries to lick Newt’s face, then the captain’s when he walks up to gather both of them into his arms.

“Good evening, Percival,” Grindelwald says.

Captain Graves nudges Newt back towards where the team is and faces his ex-lover. “I’m going to kill you.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t just hear that,” Scamander says.

“I advise against such a thing,” Dumbledore says, moving next to Grindelwald. “Pickett is safe and unharmed, and more importantly Gellert has seen the futility of his ways.”

“Did he really, or are you making excuses for him?” Captain Graves sneers.

The smile Dumbledore offers is telling of neither, arm going around to his partner’s back.

Shrugging, Grindelwald says, “It won’t happen again,” not sounding very apologetic.

“I don’t trust you, you bastard,” Captain Graves says. “Why did you even do this in the first place?”

“You didn’t come for a visit,” Grindelwald shrugs again. “I did ask.”

“And I said when hell freezes over.”

“I couldn’t wait that long.”

“And I said he’d not want to see you for a while,” Dumbledore shakes his head. “Really, Gellert, provoking him only makes it worse.”

“But he’s cute when he’s all—”

“ _So_. So, all’s good, right, Captain?” Jacob blurts out, really wanting this to be over. “We should head out, yeah?”

When the three men turn to him, six laser-like eyes metaphorically burning holes into his face, Jacob almost wishes he hadn’t said anything but at least they seem to be back to reality with the rest of them.

“Percy,” Newt calls. “Let’s go home.”

Turning to his husband, Captain Graves’ face softens into something that Tina and Jacob are shocked and embarrassed to witness while Scamander rolls his eyes.

“Alright, we’re out,” Scamander says as he pushes them towards the door. “Sorry to disturb you, sir, except not really because your boyfriend is an asshole but do enjoy the rest of your evening without further kidnappings. Good night.”

And they’re out and in the car with an added passenger and driving home.

“Captain,” Tina says after a while, “I’m sorry for whatever happened between you and that man.”

“No need to be, Tina,” the man sighs. “A bad break-up, that’s all. Forget about him, don't mention him.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t talk to him or look at him. Don’t even breathe the same air as him. If you see him, shoot—”

“ _Okay_ , Captain Threatens-a-lot, calm yourself,” Scamander butts in, “no need to frighten the children.”

Without a care in the world except for a possible snack when they get home, Pickett gives a happy bark.


End file.
